


i'll fix you, you fix me

by awespiring



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, patching up each others wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awespiring/pseuds/awespiring
Summary: Peter & MJ both ending up getting badly hurt during an attack and end up patching each other up afterward.





	i'll fix you, you fix me

> Heat spread through MJ’s body like a bad fever. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t feel, couldn’t comprehend where the pain was actually coming from. Was it her head? No, her leg? Maybe her chest? The pain radiated all over, so there was no way of being able to tell. But, the only thing keeping her sane was the sound of Peter’s own voice, though he didn’t sound to well himself.  
>    
>  She vaguely remembers ending up on the floor, the bright flashing lights and Peter screaming and shoving her out of the way, then there was only pain. MJ wasn’t going to blame him. There was a danger that came with being Spider-Man’s girlfriend and now that people knew his true identity, it was like she had stuck a big neon sign to her chest saying ‘here’s a weakness for Spider-Man, attack me’. But, things had been so quiet since Mysterio had subsequently ended Peter’s entire life. And maybe MJ was being a little dramatic because even Tony was fine after revealing that he was Iron Man, but she knew things would go downhill eventually. This was the last thing that Peter ever wanted to happen.  
>    
>  “MJ, please—please say something!” She hears his voice, distant but almost like he was right next to her. She felt like she was underwater, hearing everything that was going on but not being able to make out every detail.  
>    
>  She groans once, turning on her side. Peter was hurt too, she can see that now—the gash on his cheek and the blood trailing down the side of his head—she hoped he was okay.  
>    
>  The only reason she wasn’t having a panic attack about all the pain she was feeling was that she hadn’t seen the extent of her injuries and that was probably a _good_ thing.  
>    
>  “They’re gone. They’re gone, I _promise_.” He repeats to her, dragging himself across the floor to reach her, trying to stay low in case anyone had decided to linger in the shadows. But, his senses weren’t on high alert anymore, so he figured they were safe enough now.  
>    
>  “Who was it?” She croaks out, tasting the blood that had crusted on her bottom lip. She runs the tip of her tongue across the wound, feeling the split there. So she had a busted lip? Things could be worse.  
>    
>  “I have no idea. I barely even saw their face.” Peter admits, ashamed. His head falls, resting on his forearm. She tries to reach towards him, but the pain in her shoulder doesn’t allow that.  
>    
>  She winces, _loudly_ , she assumes by the way Peter immediately draws his attention toward her.  
>    
>  “Hey, I’ll get you out of here, okay?” He comforts her, pushing some hair out of her face.  
>    
>  MJ crinkles her face in pain when he does, feeling the matted hair being pulled from her skin. She probably had a head wound, but it couldn’t be too bad considering it didn’t hurt. But, maybe she was just in shock.  
>    
>  “ _How_? You’re hurt too.” MJ tells him, giving her boyfriend a good once over.   
>    
>  “Not so much that I can’t web our way back to my place.” He tells her, attempting to lift her upper body toward his chest.  
>    
>  She yelps in pain, attempting to muffle her scream as he pulls her up. It’s only the initial movement that actually hurts her because the pain dissipates soon after and she can wrap herself around him. Peter makes sure to secure her legs around his waist before he pushes himself and MJ off the ground, clearly struggling. But, he manages.  
>    
>  He’s never webbed home faster.  
>    
>  Peter’s so glad he left his window open because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on to MJ. And when he sits her down, he’s extra careful to avoid her shoulder, which he assumes is dislocated. He hadn’t got the chance to check yet.  
>    
>  “May—she leaves a first aid kit in the cabinet by the fridge.” MJ vaguely remembers, attempting to lift her hand to point in that direction, but decides against it. “Go get it.”  
>    
>  “How did you—“ Peter starts to ask but remembers how much time MJ actually spends at his place and how often she visits with May.  
>    
>  May probably told her about it, in case something like this happened—more so to Peter than herself, but either way. May was a life saver when it came to stuff like this. _God_ , he wishes she were home right now. But, she’d been pulling doubles the last few nights to make some extra cash. He couldn’t blame her, plus he didn’t want to burden her with this either. Peter doesn’t know what he would do if he lost her too.  
>    
>  When Peter returns, he comes back with a full first aid kit and a few old towels to help minimize the mess.  
>    
>  MJ notices the slight limp to his left leg and asks, “Does it hurt?” which might seem like a stupid question, but she knows his pain tolerance. If it hurts, it’s bad.  
>    
>  He immediately shakes his head and she knows he’s lying. She rolls her eyes, groaning as she attempts to shift her body so she can lean more comfortable against the bed. Her shoulder was killing her now.  
>    
>  Peter notices and drops to his knee, setting the stuff aside. He’s gentle when he pulls at the edge of her sweater, attempting to move it past her shoulder but MJ stops him.  
>    
>  “No-no, it hurts, I can’t.” She grits out, gripping her boyfriend so hard her knuckles turn white.  
>    
>  “You’re going to have to set it back in place, MJ. Otherwise, it’s going to keep hurting.” Peter tries to remind her, looking at her with tired eyes. She knows this is hard on him, seeing her like this.  
>    
>  MJ inhales a shaky breath and tries to brace herself, “ _Fine_. Just do it then.”  
>    
>  “You sure?”  
>    
>  MJ nods quickly and Peter grabs her shoulder, causing her to curse and lean forward.  
>    
>  “Okay one, two—“ Peter grabs her shoulder and quickly resets the bone in place, “ _three_.”  
>    
>  MJ makes an ungodly sound, clenching her teeth together so hard they could crack. But, the pain is alleviated almost instantaneously, aside from the slight ache. She knows she’ll feel it later.  
>    
>  “Give me the alcohol and gauze.” She tells him and Peter does so. “And strip.”  
>    
>  Peter doesn’t so much as argue with her and quickly presses the spider emblem on his chest, letting the suit fall to his waist before pulling the rest off as painlessly as he could. The only thing not tattered on him were his boxer-briefs, aside from the tiny bit of blood on the hem closest to his left thigh.  
>    
>  MJ isn’t gentle about the wound clean up either, pouring a good amount of alcohol on the gash on his thigh and dabbing it with a few pieces of gauze before replacing it with a larger, clean one. She tapes the edges down to seal off the wound and keep it clean.  
>    
>  “My turn.” She tells him, shoving the alcohol in his hand. “Just get it over with.”  
>    
>  Peter takes the bottle from her, looking down for a moment before grabbing a cotton ball to drench in the antiseptic before carefully trying to clean up her lip. The split wasn’t bad, the blood made it look worse than it actually was. But, he was still gentle about it.  
>    
>  “I’m sorry.” He tells her, and those are the last words MJ needs to hear right now. “I was so afraid of this happening and look at us—“  
>    
>  “You don’t get to do that.” She tells him softly, careful to move her lips as she looks at him. He only glances at her briefly before returning to tending her wound. “Not now.”  
>    
>  “MJ, you’re hurt—because of _me_.”  
>    
>  “You didn’t think I knew this could happen?” MJ asks, profoundly. “I knew damn well what I was getting myself into. This is not your fault. Ever. After London, I made that choice. I put a target on my back but I didn’t care, because it was for you, Peter. You’re all that matters.”  
>    
>  “Even if that means you getting hurt?” Peter asks, his voice somber. “I can’t ask you to put yourself in that position, M.”  
>    
>  “You’re not asking,” MJ tells him firmly, aside from the slight rasp in her voice from her throat being so dry. “I’m telling you. We’re in this together now.”  
>    
>  Peter stays quiet, silently admiring how strong and resilient MJ actually was. It amazed him every day.  
>    
>  MJ sighs, reaching her uninjured arm out to touch Peter’s temple. He winces and pulls back slightly.  
>    
>  “That hurts?” MJ asks carefully, examining the wound further. The wound didn’t look deep, but it was already a tender spot so it couldn’t feel too good.  
>    
>  MJ knows it’s harder to heal the more he’s hurt, so she’s trying her best to minimize that so he can heal faster. She might not have the same ability, but if she can help Peter—she would.  
>    
>  While he finishes up cleaning her lip, she starts on the small head wound he had attained. He winces, feeling the sting. MJ was a little more careful this time, noticing his pain.  
>    
>  “You don’t look as bad as you probably think,” MJ tells him, using her free hand to caress his face and keep him still. “Maybe even a lot better than me, I’m assuming.”  
>    
>  Peter shrugs, settling on closing his eyes and focusing rather than looking at her. MJ doesn’t say anything—it’s hard for Peter to look at her right now because he feels responsible. But MJ is a grown woman, he doesn’t need to feel that way.  
>    
>  “There.” She says softly, using a small circular bandage to cover his wound. “Like it didn’t even happen.”  
>    
>  Peter sighs, dropping one of his hands to her thigh. He just rests it there and MJ figures it’s more of a comfort to himself rather than her, but it’s nice to feel his touch. She returns the sentiment by squeezing his hand, forcing him to look in her eyes.  
>    
>  “Look, let’s clean ourselves up. I’m tired and I want to go to sleep. Besides, I’m not leaving your side tonight.”  
>    
>  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Peter asks, still just as worried as before.  
>    
>  “Clean up these last few cuts for me and give me a couple ibuprofen and I’ll be fine.” MJ tells him, although it was more of a lie than the truth. But, she couldn’t let him know that.  
>    
>  She didn’t know how she was going to feel in the morning, but all that mattered was that Peter was fine and wouldn’t be worrying about her all night. She could say she’s ever felt worse than this, but she was strong enough to get through it. But, she needed Peter strong too, for her sake.  
>    
>  “Okay.” Peter tells her, gently leaning forward to capture her lips. She meets him halfway, _chasing_ his lips almost. They both wince slightly, but the softness of the kiss outweighs whatever she’s feeling right now. All she wants it to feel Peter, be consumed by him. She’s just as gentle when she returns the kiss, a slow game of back and forth as they both try to portray exactly what they’re feeling to each other at this moment. It’s all MJ needs to forget how she’s feeling, everything that’s wrong in her life, _hell_ —even her name. All that matters is Peter and how much she cares about him.  
>    
>  “Thank you.” She tells him when they finally pull away, foreheads resting against each other. “Thank you for that.”
> 
> Things were going to be okay, they _had_ to be.


End file.
